Protector Series 2: Muddy the Past
by Elliot M. Meredith
Summary: On Concord Dawn a Journeyman Protector and his deputy are on the trail of a dangerous outlaw. So is a commander of the Imperial Security Bureau. The protector and his deputy have a special reason they do not want to fall under the scrutiny of the Empire. And so a dangerous cat and mouse game between the Empire, the outlaw and the two lawmen begins in the mountains of Concord Dawn.
1. Chapter 1

Lonely and plaintive the nameless bird's cry hung over the open valley. A profound silence answered it. A ghostly line of smoke drifted skyward from an isolated homestead, and silver waves whispered across the tall prairie grass.

A single, emaciated looking equinoid – called _warla_ by the locals – carried two riders through the sea of grass. It had come with the dawn out of the forest at the foot of the western mountain range. The riders followed a trail across the prairie, a dark track left by several smaller and one broader vehicle.

The trail led past the homestead. Like most settlements on the Mandalorian colony world of Concord Dawn, the homestead consisted of several unadorned buildings constructed of prefabricated duracrete. On the fenced off pastured around the homestead grazed several _bordocks_ , a species of cattle-like creatures valued by Concordians both for their labor and their meat.

The two riders approached the homestead from the South. Their eyes moved constantly over the buildings and the few skinny trees and skeletal farm machines, while their hands never strayed far from the stocks of their weapons. The taller of the two wore the armor, helmet, and half-cape of a Journeyman Protector, one of the legendary lawmen of Concord Dawn. The second rider, sitting behind the first, was dressed plainly, not unlike the pilgrims on the road to the Temple of Contention, with the hood of a travelling cloak drawn deep into his face.

"Aside from the hogs in the pen, I sense only one living soul, in the main building," the hooded rider said quietly to the protector as they drew closer. The Mandalorian helmet with the infamous T-visor hid the Protector's expression, but his answering grunt was curt and sounded impatient. He spurred the _warla_ to greater hurry.

"Curith?" the Protector called out when they arrived at the front gate of the homestead. "Kayska?"

Like the bird's, his calls were answered by silence.

"Not even the dog," he muttered.

"I told you, there only the hogs and…"

"I heard you."

"Well?"

But before the Protector could answer, the door of the main building opened. The woman wore a shawl over a simple dress and muddy boots on her naked feet. Her long, dark hair hung into her face, not quite hiding red rimmed eyes.

" _Su cuy'gar_ , Kayska." The Protector was off his steed, hurrying across the yard.

" _Su'cuy_ , Chadth," she answered in a weak voice. Then she nodded to the companion still on the _warla_ : "Warp."

The companion nodded back.

"You're too late," Kayska continued. "They left a few hours ago, at daybreak."

"What about your husband and daughter," Chadth Fairud, as the Journeyman Protector was known in the valley, asked.

"Hunting. A _gornak_ bear killed three of our _bordocks_ two nights ago. We followed it for a half a day across the plains. At the edge of the forest Curith and Shu continued. I returned."

Fairud relaxed. He took off his helmet.

"It is good to know they are okay."

Fairud was odd to look at. Although human, his ears were slightly pointed, and his eyes mismatched – one a warm brown, the other the cool, cloudy blue of the sky on a hazy winter's day. A large scar across his face gave his lips a perpetual sneer. And yet, overall the impression was not that of an ogrish monster, but instead conveyed calm and trust.

"The dog?" Fairud's companion asked. His name was Warpoc Skamini, but to the people of the valley he was mostly known as Warp. He did not remove his hood.

"Shot it. First thing they did. They laughed." Her eyes were hard. "I buried it an hour ago."

She looked from Warp to Fairud and back to the _warla._ "What happened to your animal, Warp?"

"The outlaws left a space freighter wreck booby-trapped, up by the ruins of the Temple of Arasuum. The animal stepped across a laser trigger."

"Kayska, tell me what happened here," Fairud said.

"They arrived after nightfall. Four ruffians, all of them off-worlders, and their leader, a Zabrak. They killed the dog, then demanded food, drink, and… shelter."

"Can you describe them?"

"Two Nikto, a Rodian, and a…" She faltered and with a dirty hand wiped a strand of hair out of her eyes. The smudge she left on her pale cheek gave her face the appearance of a skull.

"A Bothan. They called him Prince."

Warp gazed away from Kayska, as if to give her privacy, and stared into the damp morning air, where the trail left by the five marauders faded into the haze.

"What about their leader," Fairud asked.

"His skin and horns are completely black, like ink. Only his eyes are orange, like coals smoldering in a dead fireplace."

"Did he have a name?"

"His men called him Qroe."

Fairud took a step backwards. He turned from the woman and like Warp looked past the buildings and across the fence towards the north.

The sky was pale, and cold.


	2. Chapter 2

"You know what they did?" Warp asked when Fairud had mounted the _warla_ in front of him again and they continued following the trail.

"I can imagine."

"You don't have to imagine. It was Prince, the Bothan. Repeatedly through the night. He spit on her as he did it. Called her names."

Fairud was quiet for a while. Then it burst out of him: "I told you I do not want you using your, your… tricks!"

After a moment Warp said quietly: "It's who I am."

"It's who you _were_. We've come here to leave all that behind, remember? It's dangerous. If anyone catches on…" The sentence trailed away. Warp closed his eyes, hoping Fairud would stop there. But the Protector couldn't hold himself. "And it's dishonorable!"

Warp bit down on his tongue, hard enough to taste the metallic tang of blood. Fairud added: "If Kayska had wanted us to know this, she would have told us. You cannot take these things from people."

In spire of himself, Warp flared up: "It's the truth! What are we doing here if the truth doesn't matter?"

"The truth is just too dangerous these days. Don't do it anymore!"

They rode on in silence. The trail was easy enough to follow.

"They're riding speederbikes," Kayska had told them. "But they can't go very fast. A transport droid is keeping them back, one of the old V5-Ts from Veril Line. The kind that runs on treads. It's carrying several crates and heavy weapons."

More to break the uncomfortable silence than anything, Warp asked: "So, who is Qroe? You…" He searched for the right word. "Reacted – to the name."

"Maybe the most infamous outlaw in the sector. Robberies, raids, piracy."

"How come I haven't heard of him?"

"He's been in an imperial prison for the past decade."

Warp chewed on this for a while.

"How come you have heard of him?"

Fairud leaned to the side and threw a sour look backwards. "I actually talk to people, instead of skulking in the shadows or snooping in their memories. I talk to them. And I listen. Because I am one of them. Maybe you should try that sometime."

He spurred the _warla_ into a gallop.


	3. Chapter 3

Vizbee consisted mainly of corrals for livestock, and only a handful of buildings, each as plain and functional as those of the homestead. A few simple houses, a _ne'tra gal_ brewery, a trading post, and a cantina.

The transport droid they had tracked idled outside the cantina. The cargo Kayska had described was still secured to the flatbed.

"The outlaws aren't the only strangers in town," Warp noted and nodded towards an imperial shuttle whose unmistakable triangular wings showed above the roof of the trading post.

"You better keep to the background," Fairud warned. "We do not want the Empire taking note of you."

Warp's hooded face remained unmoved, but still Fairud could sense the annoyance radiating from his companion.

"Yes, Protector."

Fairud didn't have time to deal with Warp's feelings. As they approached the cantina, a limping man in the uniform of a commander of the Imperial Security Bureau neared form the other side of the settlement. He was accompanied by two stormtroopers in shining white plasteel armor.

The Journeyman Protector and the ISB commander reached the entrance of the cantina at the same time.

"Protector," the commander said and inclined his head. "Jenjin Zinic."

"Chadth Fairud," Fairud said, casually neglecting to introduce Warp. Zinic didn't bother to ask.

"I trust there is no trouble," Zinic said.

"Nothing that would concern the Empire, commander," Fairud said. "What brings you to this remote corner of the galaxy?"

"Nothing that should concern the Protectors," said the commander.

"I have to ask you to stay outside for a moment," Fairud said. "I am about to arrest a criminal."

The imperial agent narrowed his eyes. "I hope you are not talking about the man travelling with that droid."

"I am. And I have no time to quarrel with you. Please step aside."

The two men glared at each other.

Fairud continued: "I will take the criminals to Discordia. You can take up any complaints you may have with the magistrate there."

Commander Zinic regarded the Protector and his companion wearily, then withdrew.

"They are aware of us," Warp muttered to Fairud. "Their weapons are ready."

Fairud stared at him silently through the expressionless visor but refrained from criticizing him in front of the imperial agent.

"So are ours."

Fairud opened the door. Thanks to the warning he was ready for the shot that rang out. He flattened himself against the frame and answered with a volley of shots from his hip. He hit one attacker in the head. It was one of the Nikto, and he went down backwards over the bar. He hit the other Nikto in the weapon arm, forcing him to drop his blaster.

Warp had dived headfirst into the shadowy cantina. As he came out of his roll, he drove his head into the belly of the turquoise skinned Rodian. He grabbed the Rodian's long snout and pulled, slamming the outlaw's face hard into a tall barstool.

Still in the same flurry of motions, he grabbed the stunned Rodian's blaster out of the air as it was being dropped and whirled around. When everyone came to a halt, he was pointing the blaster directly at the head of the Zabrak.

The Rodian moaned and flopped bonelessly from the barstool to the floor.

Fairud stepped into the cantina. He had a blaster in each hand and with them covered the remaining outlaws: The wounded Nikto and a filthy Bothan whose long dreadlocks were held together by brass rings and dirt and who had cowered behind the bar during the fight.

"You are under arrest for piracy, murder, robbery, and assault."

The Zabrak, who was indeed as ink black as Kayska had described him, stood calmly at the bar. He hadn't moved at all during the short shoot out. Now he turned two languid, glowing eyes on the Protector and raised a glass of dark, foamy _ne'tra gal_.

"Somehow I doubt that your authority will go unchallenged, Protector."

"Indeed," Commander Zinic said behind Fairud.

Without taking his guns from the Bothan or the Nikto, Fairud turned his head to face Zinic.

"I asked you to stay out of this, commander."

"I am afraid I cannot do that," Zinic said. "That freighter and its crew were my responsibility. I will take the cargo and the criminals into custody." After a pause he added: "The Empire will guarantee that justice is done."

"So you are the buyer. I was wondering who Captain Keler was meeting so clandestinely on this dismal, deserted world," the Zabrak drawled. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Shut up, scum," the commander hissed. "I promise you, you will not be so pleased when you get to know me better."

"Oh, but I will. Because you will get me out of here, and you will pay for the privilege and for my service of dragging your precious cargo all the way from those mountains to this shithole of a town. And you already know why, otherwise you wouldn't be here."

Zinic fumed silently, while the Zabrak continued, clearly pleased with himself.

"You will because of these here."

Slowly he lifted his hand, very aware of the blaster Warp still pointed unwaveringly at him. In the hand he held a small, round device.

"Don't worry, this one isn't armed." He placed it carefully on the bar. "But as the commander undoubtedly already figured out, the two dozen I rigged the droid and the cargo crates with are."

His eyes blazed. "So, unless you want to see the entire town obliterated, _Protector_ ," he stressed Fairud's title to mock him, "you will let me and my outfit leave together with the commander.

"And you," he said to Zinic, "will drop me off at a space port of my choice, with the credits I demand, in return for letting you have your treasure."

He smiled and lifted his glass of dark ale to his lips.

Zinic growled.

"You are not seriously considering to take him up on his offer, commander?" Fairud asked Zinic.

"What else can we do? He holds all the cards."

Fairud stared at Zinic for a moment, then looked back at the Zabrak. Then he began to laugh. It sounded strangely dark and booming under the helmet.

"Hey, Nenam," he called to the serving girl behind the bar. She turned around to him and revealed the double-barreled snub-nosed disintegrator she had hidden beside her. Fairud turned to the rest of the cantina, half a dozen farmers and herders that had been quiet until now, content to sit and watch.

"Trillac, Mors, Jadak, all of you…"

Now that Zinic and the outlaws actually looked at the townsfolk it became apparent that most of them had drawn a weapon of some kind and had been following the scene quite attentively.

"This man," Fairud pointed with one gun at the Zabrak, "is the outlaw Qroe. Many of you remember his raids in the past. Three days ago he and his posse brought down a freighter in the mountains. They killed the crew and took the cargo. And last night they attacked Kayska Sarhul, shot her dog, invaded her home, stole her food, and…"

Fairud hesitated. He looked at Warp, whose face was still hidden under the cowl of his cloak. Be he didn't miss the almost imperceptible nod his companion gave him. Fairud put steel into his voice when he continued: "…and raped her repeatedly and viciously."

He looked around the room. "What do you say, _Mando'ade_?" Shall we let him walk away under the protection of this imperial lackey, just because he has a bomb in the street?"

A dangerous murmur went through the room. And Nenam, the barmaid, pointed her disintegrator at Qroe: "Fuck him. We'll go down with him before we let him get away."

Fairud holstered his remaining gun. Warp followed his example and shoved the Rodian's gun into his belt.

"My deputy and I will bring this rabble and the cargo to Discordia, where you may wait for us, commander."

They got out slim, self-locking magnetic strips and began binding the wrists of the outlaws behind their backs. With all the guns in the room directed at the outlaws and the stormtroopers, nobody resisted.

"This will not remain without consequences, Protector," Zinic promised before he turned around and stormed out.

"Hey, Jadak?" Fairud addressed one of the farmers. "Run across the street, have Gramza call the protectors to send two or three ships. That way the commander won't get funny ideas about attacking us on the way."

The farmer nodded and left for the com center at the trading post.

"Well played," Qroe admitted when Fairud bound his arms. "Of course, you will lose in the end."

"Will I?"

"Oh yes, you will." The Zabrak sounded completely confident in his prediction. "Either we will best you, or Zinic will. At best you will get me to Discordia and there the commander will buy my freedom."

"You do not know the _Mando'ade_."

" _Mando'ade_." Qroe rolled the word on his tongue. "The children of Mandalore. Maybe I do not know them as well as I should, but I know people. All people can be bought."

"We will see."

"We will," Qroe agreed. "We will."

"Pota Wash," Fairud asked another of the men. "You served as medic during the separatist war, didn't you`"

"Aye."

"Have a look at these, will you?"

The doc came forward and knelt down next to the two Nikto and the Rodian.

"That one is dead. This one," he indicated the Rodian, "has a concussion. And that one has a nasty blaster burn. I should get some bacta bandages for him."

"Please do. We want to get going as soon as the ships are here, before the Empire sends reinforcements."

On his way out the doc met Jadak, who was returning from the trading post. The farmer was upset.

"We cannot call for help, Protector," he said. "Gramza can't raise anyone on the com."

"He's jamming us," Warp said.

"Damn." Fairud took off the helmet and scratched his chin. "He'll take his ship and just attack us at some vulnerable point on the road."

"Not as long as his cargo is controlled by my bombs," Qroe said. "You'd have to leave them armed and in place, of course."

"The moment he takes off and moved out of range for the jammers, Gramza can call our own ships," Warp said quietly.

"If they're here fast enough."

Fairud kneaded his lower lip, thinking hard.

"I'd still like to have some extra guns with me, to hold off the Empire if I need to." Fairud looked around the room. "Volunteers?"

The men and women looked back at him, then around at each other.

The Zabrak laughed out loud.

"I should have called your bluff earlier. The famous Mandalorians, scared of a couple of stormtroopers."

"Shut up," Warp said, as quietly as before. "You are embarrassing yourself."

Qroe tried to peer under Warp's hood, but the cantina was too ill lit for even his cat's eyes. Warp continued under his breath: "None of them are scared of the stormtroopers, or of dying. But they each have family in the valley, and work that needs doing. This is a poor country. Any of them could lose everything with one failed harvest, or one _bordock_ market day gone bad. They are trying to decide how many men would be needed to you to the city and who would be the most expandable here."

"I'll go," Doc Wash said. "Something's been itching ever since the war ended."

A tall, ungainly woman stood up. "I could go, too."

She scuffed her boot against the rough permacrete floor. "Not much to do for me in town now, and I'm good enough with the rifle, I guess."

Fairud extended an arm towards her.

"You'd be very welcome, Fonwa."

The party decided to leave as quickly as possible. Several routes were discussed, and they settled for a pass through the southern mountains as the path that would be hardest to follow for Zinic and best to defend against possible attacks.

"We'll have to lose the droid," Fairud said to the prisoners.

"What if we don't disarm the explosives?" Prince, the Bothan, said with an oily voice and grinned through his whiskers.

Fairud grabbed him by one of furry, equine ears and dragged him out into the street. Warp, the doc, and Fonwa forced the remaining Nikto, the Rodian, and Qroe to follow.

Fairud tossed Prince onto the flatbed of the droid. The droid protested in a high-pitched stream of binary. The Fairud jumped up onto the droid's back himself, and grabbed one of the crates.

"You better decide right now if you're going to cooperate or not," he said to the outlaws. "Because I am done dicking around."

None of the outlaws spoke or moved, except for furtive glances at their leader. Only Prince muttered complaints at the treatment he had received.

"Protector?" one of the farmers, who had followed the out from the cantina, asked uncertainly. But Fairud shrugged and gripped the crate tighter. Only when he visibly tensed the muscles in his back and thighs, the Rodian squeaked: "Deactivate the droid!"

Fairud stopped but didn't take his hands of the crate. "What do you mean?"

"The crates are just rigged to go off when you open them. It's the droid. It will explode when you remove any piece of the cargo. The switch is above the front right tread-wheel."

"You bloody fool," Qroe said to the Rodian. "He was testing us. He wouldn't have gone through with such a pointless risk."

Fairud kept his face even as he jumped off the droid and reached for the deactivation switch. The pearls of sweat on the faces of some of the onlookers helped sell his bluff, even now, but the truth was, he hadn't been sure until the last moment, whether he would just go through with it.

He caught Warp's eyes and he knew that while he couldn't be sure of his own intentions, his companion would be. Fairud's scowl deepened.

"Let's load the cargo and the prisoners onto _bordocks_."

It happened when he turned his back on the prisoners to talk to some of the herders who would supply the necessary beasts of burden for the trip. Suddenly the Zabrak went into a crouch, lowered his head and then rammed the short but razor sharp crown of horns that grew out of his skull into the Rodian's chest and under his chin. He twisted his head savagely, tearing out most of the little guy's throat.

Everyone pointed their blasters at Qroe, but he slowly straightened up. Pale greenish blood ran from his horns across his face. And as Doc Wash knelt down to try to save the dying Rodian, Qroe said: "Well, Dardo, I know Prince told you what few rules we got in this outfit. And this is what happens when you squeal on the rest of us."

He spat some of the blood onto the floor, as if he had to rid himself of a foul taste. Then he inclined his head towards Fairud and said, almost apologetically: "I have no patience for those who do not stand with theirs."

"Then you will understand that if you attack any of mine, I will cook your brain in your hard, horned Zabrak skull until your eyes boil."

Fairud holstered his blaster again.

"He's gone," the doc proclaimed about Dardo, the Rodian. "Someone please take him away."

"Can we get going now?" Qroe asked. "I've had my fill of this _phudonc_ town."

Doc Wash fetched his own _warla_ , and a second one for Warp. The three remaining outlaws, the cargo, and Fonwa, who didn't own any livestock, got _bordocks_. The herder who supplied them received the posse's speederbikes in payment. They also packed enough food and some useful equipment to make it across the mountains.

By then, night had fallen. Neither commander Zinic nor any of his stormtroopers had made another appearance since leaving the cantina, but Fairud didn't doubt that he had some kind of spy droid watching them from some roof or corner.

They had searched each person, beast, and crate for homing beacons and found nothing, but lacking the proper devices, they couldn't be certain. Still, they were now as ready as they were going to get, and so they left.


	4. Chapter 4

Their path took them further south, towards an area called _the broken forest_ , before it would reach the mountains separating the valley of Vizbee from Discordia City.

As they got close to the forest's edge, they began riding single file. Fairud lead the group. He was followed by the Nikto, who was guarded by the doc, and Prince, who was guarded by Fonwa. Then came the _bordock_ carrying the cargo. And finally Qroe rode ahead of Warp at the end of the line.

Qroe let his _bordock_ fall back a little so that he was to the side and just barely ahead of Warp.

"You planning to keep that hood over your head the entire trip?"

Warp was a little taken aback by the direct question. After a brief moment of hesitation he said: "No."

"Mind letting me see what you're hiding underneath it then?" Qroe turned around in the saddle and looked at him. "I like to know who I am riding with."

Warp hesitated again, then with a shrug pulled down the hood.

His long, blond hair gleamed in the light of two moons and a planetary ring of asteroids. He was much younger than Qroe had assumed, barely at the cusp of manhood. But already a blaster burn had marked much of his face deeply, leaving the left side leathery and tanned, and the rest silvery with scar tissue. Only his eyes, watery blue, remained bright and alive."

Qroe whistled.

"That must have been one nasty wound to survive? Who gave it to you?"

Warp tried to keep his face devoid of expression under the outlaw's intense scrutiny, but Qroe did not miss how those bright, intelligent eyes darted briefly to the Protector at the head of the line before he answered: "The Empire."

Qroe nodded. "Yeah. Got some of those myself." And after a short silence: "Ever been to one of their prison worlds, boy?"

Warp shook his head and pulled the hood back up, hiding his scars from the world again.

"Smart kid. You don't want to go there. It's not just the bad food, you know, of the unpleasant company. They work you to death there, and they're not shy of thrashing you to hurry towards that goal any chance they get."

Qroe hunched his shoulders forward as good as he could with his bound wrists, and used his hands to shove his black leather jacket and his shirt up. At first the skin underneath seemed just as black as the jacket, but when moonlight fell across it, Warp saw the web of scars glitter in the dark.

"Neuro-whips," Qroe said and let his clothes fall down again. "Shaped electricity, burning not just through your skin but all the way into your nerve endings, making your muscles dance and scream. Again. And again. And again."

Qroe was about to nudge his _bordock_ into line again, when Warp's boyish voice came from underneath the hood: "Why are you still dealing with them, then?"

"Who? The Empire?"

Warp didn't answer, which Qroe took for a yes.

"Kid, if I wouldn't who would be left to deal with? Do you think the Hutts are any better, or the Black Sun? You do what you have to do to survive."

"That's not enough," Warp said. His was so low that only Qroe could hear it, but there was a fire in it that almost startled him.

"I know there is evil everywhere, but the Empire has made it commonplace. You know they will never tolerate someone like you. And in the end, they will replace you with something even worse."

Qroe looked at the boy appraisingly, then shook his head.

"It's too late for that kind of philosophizing for me."

Warp shrugged again, and they rode on in silence.

As they entered the forest, it became apparent why no farmer had laid claim to this land and cut own the ancient trees. Long ago some cataclysm must have ripped the ground apart, leaving it riven with zig-zagging, narrow gorges, just about deep and broad enough for their animals to ride through.

Pale, coppery green roots wormed in and out of the dry, stony earth walls to their sides and across the mossy ground, so that their animals had to walk slowly or they would stumble. The trees, fat and gnarly, with tangled branches, wove a tight tapestry of wood and leaf high above their heads. The group would not be seen from the air, nor from anywhere within the forest, unless the observer stood directly in their path or on the edge of whichever single crag they were then travelling down.

Since the labyrinth of gorges divided and twisted every few yards, nobody ever saw more than one or at best two animals ahead of themselves, making it harder for the Protector and his deputies to keep an eye on all the prisoners at all times.

Around dawn, Doc Wash suddenly shouted: " _Shab_! The Nikto is gone!"

At once Fairud called out orders: "Doc, secure Prince. Fonwa, arms on Qroe. Warp!"

"At it, F… Fairud," Warp called back. Qroe, who didn't miss the momentary hesitation, threw him a questioning glance. Then Fonwa backed her _warla_ into the chasm Qroe and Warp were in and pointed the large muzzle of her blaster rifle at Qroe's head.

"Do not move, scum!"

Qroe smirked at her. "I won't, ma'am."

Warp had stood up his _warla's_ back, and pulled himself up onto the nearest ledge with obvious ease.

"What's the Nikto's name?" Warp asked from above.

Qroe saw him standing in the dim dawn light dappling in through the green ceiling, eyes closed, arms extended like a man searching for his way in the dark.

"Lyshebbek," Qroe said grudgingly.

"Give yourself up, Lyshebbek," Warp called into the forest, "and you will live!"

Qroe strained his ears, but all he could make out was the rustling of leaves and the faint sound of twigs scratching across twigs. He saw however the smile touch Warp's burned lips and suddenly Qroe became aware of how beautiful the young man looked under his layers of scars.

Without opening his eyes, Warp pulled the blaster he had taken from Dardo, the Rodian. He aimed and fired into the forest's lingering darkness.

There was a single cry, and the sound of a body falling from a tree first to the forest floor, and then over the edge down into one of the forest's gorges.

Fairud called out from ahead: "Qroe? Prince? You heard that? There will be no further warnings. You make my life any more difficult, and you will not have to worry about the magistrate in Discordia. Are we clear?"

Qroe watched Warp slide back into his saddle. Fonwa put her rifle across her lap and nudged her _bordock_ back into line.

"Oh, we're clear," Qroe said quietly to Warp. "Very clear."

For several hours they rode on in silence. The forest around them was filled with the sibilant whispers of ghosts and melodious clacking of bones as the morning breeze danced on the branches. There was a peculiar smell on the air, too, sweet and yet faintly pungent, that increased in intensity as the sun rose above the canopy of leaves and warmed the air beneath.

"It's a fungus," Warp said to Qroe when the Zabrak sniffed the air. "The smell. It's in the soil around the roots. During the day its spores get released and circulated by the updraft."

"Didn't take you for a planetary ecologist."

Warp smiled under his hood. "I like to understand the world around me, and my place in it. It is… comforting."

"You're an odd one, for a bounty hunter."

"I'm not a bounty hunter," Warp bristled. "I'm…"

It was Qroe's turn to smile when Warp searched for a word to continue, but the smile held a cruel glint.

"Yes?"

"A deputy," Warp concluded lamely. "To the Journeyman Protector. Protectors."

"A lawman…" Qroe added. "A warrior for justice and liberty. Roaming the land and killing _bordock_ rustlers and turnip thieves."

The mockery in words was not to be missed.

"It's a lot more honorable than robbery."

"Is it?"

"Of course it is," Warp said with contempt. "I don't harm people."

Qroe laughed. "You just shot Lyshebbek for trying to regain his freedom."

"He…" Warp began.

Qroe finished for him: "He deserved it. And maybe you are correct, though I only ever saw Lyshebbek draw a weapon to defend himself. He was my engineer, not a shootist."

"What are you trying to say?"

Qroe took his time to formulate his answer, swaying in the saddle as his bovine beast plodded through the gorge.

"Concord Dawn is a very small world, boy. Things may seem evil from down here, but can you be certain they still are when you see them from out there?"

Warp didn't respond for a while. Fairud stopped at a small opening in the labyrinth. Several gorges crossed here and at the center formed a sort of natural amphitheater. The trees could not quite reach across it, leaving an opening for sunlight and fresh air to reach the bottom.

"We'll rest here for a bit," Fairud announced.

Doc Wash got out some provisions and passed them around. He and Fonwa fed the prisoners without releasing them from their bonds.

Fairud and Warp climbed up onto the forest floor to scout out the area. Up there, Fairud took Warp aside and asked quietly: "Did you have to be quite so blatant when you shot the Nikto?"

"What did you want me to do? Let him escape? He could have circled back, followed us and picked us off one at a time from behind, or above."

"Of course not. But you could have pretended to search for him, you know. To see or hear something. The normal way."

"Pretended…?

"Yes. Pretended. To blend in."

Warp looked at the ground and muttered: "Yes, Protector."

"Stop calling me that."

"Why? You treat me like a _padawan_. Might as well treat you as my Master."

Fairud grabbed Warp roughly by the shoulders. For a moment he wasn't sure himself whether he would strike his companion. Instead he pulled him in for a hug.

"I am trying to keep you safe!" he whispered, still angry.

Warp drew himself out from the embrace.

"Yes, Protector," he said deliberately, without look at Fairud. "I better check the perimeter."

He turned around and walked away into the forest gloom. Fairud looked after him, helpless. It had been his idea to come to Concord Dawn after the war, to build a new life. He had applied as a Journeyman Protector while Warpoc slowly recovered from his wounds. And once the other Protectors had accepted Fairud, he had deputized Warpoc so nobody would wonder about them. The wish to stay off anyone's scanners was also the reason he had asked for this territory: A remote, peaceful area far from any bustle or traffic that might carry any news of them off the planet.

But for months, maybe even years, Warpoc had now been slipping away from him. They spoke less and less. While Fairud made friends amongst the local farmers and ranchers, Warpoc kept to himself, more interested in the flora and fauna of Concord Dawn than its people.

Shouts and the sound of blaster fire called Fairud back to the present, and to the campsite. He rushed to the edge of the amphitheater and looked down. A huge _gornak_ bear stood roaring on its four hind legs amidst the panicking _bordocks_. The bear swatted one of the _bordocks_ with a massive claw, tearing a big chunk of flesh from its neck. It broke down in a fountain of blood.

Fonwa was already shooting at the bear with he her rifle. Several patches of its thick, metallic fur were burning. However, that that did not seem to slow it down, but instead to enrage it further.

Fairud drew his own blaster and started shooting at the bear's head. Warp had reappeared next to him and was shooting as well. And suddenly yet another rifle joined the barrage but Fairud didn't have time to figure out who was shooting it.

The _gornak_ , under fire from three sides, roared again and went down on all its six limbs to charge Fonwa and others in the camp. Fonwa backed away, still blasting away. The Doc did his best to keep Qroe and Prince out of the enraged beast's range. Less than two feet from Fonwa's boots the bear finally collapsed.

"Are you alright?" Fairud called down to her and the doc.

Fonwa was too shaken to answer, but the doc shouted back: "We're okay. It got two of the _bordocks_ , but the rest of us are unscathed. You okay up there?"

Fairud waves to show that he was, and then turned to the opposite edge for the third shooter. A girl, no older than 14, stood on the far edge and reloaded her hunting blaster.

"Shu?" Fairud called out, and walked around the campsite towards her. "Shu Sarhul?"

She looked up. " _Su cuy'gar_ , Protector Fairud. Deputy Skamini."

Kayska Sarhul's daughter. Fairud had not wished to run into her. Nor her father. Before he could ask her where he was, his familiar deep voice called from the forest.

"We finally got it, _buir_!" Shu shouted back.

Curith walked out of the shadows, his own rifle slung casually over his shoulder. It was a heavy weapon, the kind you needed to hunt _gornaks_.

" _Su cuy'gar_ Chadth," he greeted Fairud. " _Su cuy'gar,_ Warpoc. I see our bear found you before we could find it."

"So it did," Warp said.

"Didn't hurt anyone, did it?"

"Two of our steeds, but no people, no."

"Who is it?" Fonwa called from the campsite.

"Curith Sarhul and his daughter," Warp called back.

"What sent you to the broken forest, Protector?" Curith asked.

"Transporting two criminals to Discordia."

"You're taking the pass instead of the river route? You must be pressed for time."

"Actually, trying to avoid running into other interested parties." Such as you and your daughter, Fairud thought.

"Uh-huh." Curith stepped up to the ledge and looked down at the group. "Need another two pairs of eyes and hands with rifles?"

"I think we're okay. We probably won't run into another _gornak,_ right?"

"I doubt it," Curith agreed. "Still, if outlaws are on your tracks, why take a chance. We can help."

"I thank you for the offer, Curith," Fairud said, "but don't you think Kayska has been on her own long enough? How about Shu? She must have been sleeping rough several nights now."

Curith shrugged. "Oh, we don't mind. I've been teaching her tracking and other skills she cannot learn properly at the homestead. And to be honest," Curith lowered his voice and leaned in towards Fairud, grinning awkwardly, "the bear is only a pretext for me to leave for a while. Things have been tense between Kayska and me lately. Maybe a bit of distance is doing both of us some good."

Having Curith and Shu around the rapist of Kayska – especially when Curith would feel already guilty for leaving Kayska unprotected should he learn of the attack – was the last thing Fairud wanted, but he knew of no way to decline Curith's offer.

"Anyway," Curith said cheerfully. "First I have to show Shu how to skin and bone out a _gornak_."

Fairud wanted to point at the time and use that as a pretext to leave them behind, but it was all too obvious that they had just been in the process of setting up camp. Curith was too experienced a woodsman. He would immediately see through the lie and wonder.

"Okay, let's get a fire going. Make some caf, and cook some of that bear and the _bordocks_ it killed. But we have to be going again before nightfall. I do not want any firelight attracting attention in the dark."

"You know that's a mistake," Warp warned him quietly.

Fairud turned away from the others and muttered: "What can I do?"

"You should have told him the truth first thing."

"Well, I didn't. Go up that tall tree there, keep an eye out for Zinic or any other danger."

As much as Fairud wished it was not so, he knew that his companion's special senses would keep them safer than anyone else. Warp went with the same sour expression he had always affected in recent times when Fairud gave him an order. Fairud joined the others at the camp.

They had barely gotten the fire going, when Fairud realized that Warp had been right. Neither Fonwa nor Doc Wash were used to duplicity. The way they looked from the prisoners to Curith and Shu and back, and the way the forced jollity into their normally curt, even taciturn speech made it abundantly clear that something was wrong.

As the Mandalorian warrior that he was, Curith tried to ignore this, but Shu was more direct.

"What is wrong?" she asked Fonwa. "Why are you laughing all wrong? And why won't you look at me?"

Fonwa looked at Fairud for help, when Qroe spoke up from his shady place at the wall of the camp.

"Because the night before last, I and four of my outfit came upon your homestead. I insisted on staying for a few hours. We took of your food and drink, and old Prince here forced himself onto your mother."

He grinned, his sharp teeth sparkling unnaturally in his dark face. "Didn't you, Prince?"

"I sure did," the Bothan said. His grin seemed less certain than Qroe's, but his wink to Shu was even more unsettling.

Curith roared and went for his rifle. Fairud placed a hand onto the weapon's stock and stared at Curith.

"They will be brought before the magistrate. We all heard their confessions right now. They will not escape justice. But you should really go and see to your wife now."

"I will kill him," Curith spat. "You just go on. Turn your back on me, Chadth. I will shoot that Bothan out of the saddle."

"Go ahead, lawman," Qroe said softly to Fairud, "Let him take his revenge on Prince. Surely he deserves it, does he not? Show me who you really are."

Prince, even more uncertain, looked at the Zabrak: "Boss?"

"I could always just shoot you in the back myself when nobody is watching," Fairud growled. "Claim you tried to escape, be done with all of this."

"You could. Nobody would know. Except your little friend, eh? Would you force him to pretend to believe your lie, then, or would you make him watch, _protector_?"

The scorn with which he spoke Fairud's title was all too obvious now. Fairud ignored the Zabrak. Instead he turned to Curith.

"I should have told you from the beginning. I apologize. But these are my prisoners, and you will not lay on them while they are in my care, or I will end up taking you to the magistrate. There will be no vigilante justice on my watch."

Curith growled, too, but backed down. He declined to share the meal with them, though, and began packing up his things.

"Fonwa, why don't you go back with them? See they get to Kayska safely. With the Nikto and the Rodian gone, I think Warp and Doc Wash will suffice to get these two across the mountains."

Fonwa hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded. "I will make sure they get home straight away."

Fairud pressed her arm.

"Tell him you cannot bear to travel with the beasts yourself any longer. Get him to let you accompany him."

She nodded again joined father and daughter.

"You should have let him travel with us," Warp said, standing suddenly directly behind Fairud.

"Curith is level headed man," Fairud said. "He'll calm down and do the right thing."

"He's a Mandalorian."

Fairud whirled around. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Warp shrugged. "Nothing."

"I'll continue the watch," Fairud said and climbed to the forest ground.

He stalked off between the trees, trying to let the afternoon warmth, the birds and the rustling of the leaves calm him down.

They had arrived here seven years ago, at the end of the war. To start a new life. Yes, Concord Dawn had been his choice. Ever since being told by his instructor on Kamino about the Journeymen Protectors and about his own Mandalorian heritage, he had wanted to come here. But it had been a good choice. The right choice.

The people were simple, straightforward, honest folks. Hotheaded, maybe, but also willing to stand their ground for what they believed in. For the most part decent, courageous, and honorable.

But Warp had never fitted in. At first the boy had still been on the mend, cared for by the medics at the Protector's base on the planet's third moon, while Fairud had gone through his training and apprenticeship there. Fairud had been making friends and acquaintances, and introduced many of them to Warp on his visits to the clinic.

For a long time, he had made excuses for Warp's reluctance to relate to these friends. He could understand that after his experiences during the war, the boy was hesitant to trust the Protector's military society. He understood that the severe scars made his shy and did not help him to open up to new relationships.

They relocated down to the planet. Fairud had requested a remote area on the southern continent to minimize their contact with traders or visitors from other systems and thus the risk of their discovery by the Empire. It was hard to fault the boy. Yes, he had refused to become fully initiated as a Protector, accepting his place as Fairud's deputy. But his argument that full membership would put him under too much scrutiny by the Protectors had been a sound one.

And as he grew older, he had been a faithful companion. He had stood by Fairud's side through many dangers, helped bring peace and justice to the outback. Fairud knew that Warp's quiet, reserved way had earned him the respect and trust of most of the homesteaders, traders, and craftsmen all over the country they travelled.

And at first, when they were alone with each other, Warp had seemed happy, loyal and even passionate at times, as far as his personality and upbringing allowed genuine passion. But with time passion had faded, first for routine, and recently for sullenness.

Outwardly, Warp had always staid aloof, and grown ever more quiet and withdrawn. What was new was the bitterness. There was a sharp criticism in Warp's words, even mockery of their chosen people and home. It was hard to pinpoint, but Fairud could convince himself less and less that he was only imagining it.

The Journeyman Protector shook his head, trying to drive the unease from his mind. He had to concentrate on the task at hand, or none of them would arrive in Discordia.


End file.
